What Lies Within Us
by Shattered Time
Summary: Life really sucks when you start dreaming about a dead person you look like while trying to survive your surgical internship. And it just rocks when this dead person starts offering life advice that has a tendency of making bad situations worse.


**Disclaimer: Don't own it, wish I did.**

**This is my first attempt at a Grey's fanfic. Be kind. Don't hurt me!**

I dream of Meredith Grey.

She is always present around me, floating by and encompassing my thoughts. Her presence is inescapable wherever I go. But it's most strong at Seattle Grace Hospital. I saw her there once. It was a short glimpse but it is how I will always remember her. She looked very thin, tired and gone. She was wearing blue scrubs that seemed too large and her eyes, which were a deep green, looked faraway and lost. She reminded me of a lonely but beautiful island that was situated in the middle of an ocean. And then I looked away. When I looked back she had vanished. I didn't know who she was then. She was a face I saw once in a hospital; nothing more, nothing less. I didn't care who she was because I didn't know the effect that she would have on my life. I was blissfully unaware of what her memory would do to my very existence. The dead always leave a variety of imprints behind them.

She always smiles a sad smile and says, "I'm so sorry Nikki." That's the nickname she calls me. My name Nicola has always been very formal. "Everything could have been different, so much better even. But I'm dead so things are the way they are. I just wish I could be here. It would have changed everything."

Life isn't a clock we can turn back. Mistakes, accidents and problems can't disappear even if we wish them away. Nothing changes overnight. Meredith Grey has been dead for over two years and left a horrible aftermath of consequences; consequences that eventually found a way to surround me.

When Attendings or Residents who knew her look at me, they see her. Apparently, we have some striking similarities. In my face they see the friend they had to let go, the student they had to let fail on them, and the wife they had to give up. They see the woman whose bright future betrayed her. They see her so much that they stop seeing me.

I am girl without a name. I am girl who strikes pain in their hearts.

"They forget that I'm not you," I say closing my eyes.

And she looks at me full of regret and says, "I wish things could have been different."

* * *

Derek Shepherd avoids me in the halls.

The beautiful but broken neurosurgeon finds ways to stay away from me. We're hardly ever in the same room. And I prefer it that way because it's to pretend that he doesn't feel anything at all when he sees me. It's easier to pretend that he doesn't see his dead wife whenever he looks at me. It's easier to pretend that a brief but sharp pain doesn't mar his face when we're in a close proximity to each other.

It had been this way all month. My first month as a surgical intern at Seattle Grace has been marked by humiliation and doubt.

"Lytle!" Bailey's voice barks out.

I look up feeling tired and drained. "Yes?"

I have not been sleeping and my appearance does nothing to hide it. The bags under my eyes are deep and my body screams for sleep. But when I do succumb to the demands of an overworked system visions of Meredith dance in my head.

Bailey's large brown eyes size me up without pity and she snaps out, "It's the Pit for you Lytle. The way you look I'd be afraid to even let you think about touching a scalpel."

My fellow interns give me various looks. Alyssa Proto gives me a raised eyebrow frown while Marissa Vasta shoots me a pitying smile. Kevin Swiatkowski gives me a pat on the back and Brad O'Brian pulls on his lab coat with a smirk. We are an oddly matched group. Our personalities conflict so we have made no real attempt to get to know each other. I would say I am closest with Alyssa because we complain to each other easily. Despite her prickly attitude, she seems to enjoy talking to me. Marissa appears to be perpetually upbeat but I saw her sobbing in the locker room last week. Kevin is sweet while Brad acts like an ass. I am the one that Attendings and Residents stare at because I resemble a former colleague.

"Proto move your butt down to the Pit too. It's sutures for you two today."

Alyssa and I fall into step as we make our way down the long, clean hallways. She is petite. She cannot be taller then 5'4 and is extremely thin but presents an extremely domineering personality. She has jet-black curly hair that she never leaves down and smooth, flawless brown skin. She could be very pretty but her large mouth is generally turned down in a frown.

"Bailey seems pissed today," she intones with a roll of her large eyes.

I nod in agreement, "She does. She hasn't let me do anything all week."

"Well, I get that," Alyssa says with a snort.

I give her a look as we approach the entrance.

"No offense, but you've looked like death all week."

I smile and laugh. She seems put at ease by my lack of an angry response.

"Seriously?" She questions. "Have you been sleeping at all?"

"No. Not really," I respond shaking my head.

Alyssa gave me a look. "Why not?"

"You really don't want to know."

She shrugs. "Alright."

As we enter, she immediately departs from my side and sprints quickly to the first surgical looking case she sees. I look around slowly, tiredly. I want something simple. I only want to bandage someone up, send them home. Not even surgery feels appealing today. And surgery is like a drug to me and my fellow surgeons.

I walk over to a teenage boy and his mother. The mother is sitting looking sick while her son looks nervous and lost.

"Can I help?"

Both of their eyes snap to me and the mother says sounding pained, "Yes. That would be lovely. I smacked my head and I'm having what appears to be the worst headache of my life."

"Are you?" I say my voice laced with concern. She nods. I go through the typical questions that must be asked and decide she needs a CT scan. While waiting for the results to process, I find my mind wandering to her son, Michael. He is gorgeous for a young boy with his blond shaggy hair and piercing blue eyes. I smile to myself knowing how silly it is to think that when I'm years older. The CT reveals a ruptured brain aneurysm. I sigh. It isn't large, certainly not life threatening. But I will need a neuro-consult. As I make the page, I pray that it will not be Dr. Shepherd.

As luck will have it, he rounds the corner smile and hair in place. His smile slides off his face when he sees me. I can feel my face heating up in embarrassment and I pray that something will swallow me up so that I can disappear.

"How can I be of help?" His smile is back in place but it's strained.

I clear my throat and avoiding his eyes say, "Mrs. Dalton appears to have a ruptured brain aneurysm."

We fall into stiff medical talk as Mrs. Dalton and her son look on. Dr. Shepherd turns his attention to them, assuring them he can fix it and that the aneurysm is easily fixed. Michael ignores Dr. Shepherd and watches me. I lift an eyebrow at him and he looks away. Dr. Shepherd issues a terse goodbye to me and I walk away feeling dismissed.

"Dr. Lytle?"

I turn to see Michael following me. "Yes?"

"Dr. Shepherd knows what he's doing right?"

I smile. "Of course he does. He's a well-known and widely renowned neurosurgeon. It's wonderful that he's taken your mother's case."

"Oh." Michael says flipping his hair out of his eyes. "He kind of seems like a jerk."

I laugh and question, "Why is that?"

"He completely ignored you in there. Are you two dating or something?"

I feel my whole body stiffen and my blood run cold. "Why would you think that?"

"Well," he says. "It seemed like you two were fighting but he kept staring at you out of the corner of his eye."

I notice that Michael has gotten closer; much closer then he needs to be. He is looking at me in that measured way that beautiful teens like him can look at girls.

I raise my eyebrow and ask, "Why do you care."

His face flushes slightly and he replies quickly, "You just seem so nice and you deserve better if you two are. Dating I mean."

"Better like who?" My voice is teasing and he turns redder. There's something satisfying about knowing I can still make boys blush. I know this needs to stop though so I flip the chart I'm holding shut and walk away. I glance back to see him looking dumbfounded.

"Lytle did you just shut that kid down?"

I turn to see Brad O'Brian looking at me with a grin. "He thinks I deserve better then Dr. Shepherd." Brad gives me a look. "Meaning he isn't aware of the fact that the reason Dr. Shepherd ignores me isn't because we're in a lover's spat."

"Sucks to be you Lytle."

"Don't I know it O'Brian."

* * *

As I change out of my scrubs and into my jeans and sweater, I feel terribly alone. I sit down on the bench and rest my head in my hands. Dr. Shepherd avoided my eye all day as we worked on the Dalton case. I am invisible.

"Hey."

I turn to see Alyssa. "Hey."

"I heard you were stuck with Shepherd all day." She sounds like she feels bad about it.

"Yeah, brain aneurysm."

We pause to stare at each other and she says, "It will get better."

She sounds like she isn't quite sure she means it.

I laugh and stand up. "I hope so. I really do."

* * *

I find myself at Joe's, which is the bar across the street. I sit down in the stool and on an impulse order a shot of tequila. Meredith told me last week that it was her favorite. The drink burns down my throat but I welcome the feeling with my eyes closed. I have another and then another. My body feels warm, my memories of the bad day dimmed.

"Tequila? You know you're getting to get very drunk if you keep going at that rate."

I turn to see a dark-haired man with brown eyes. "That would be the plan."

He doesn't ask if I want to talk to him. He sits down assuredly next to me. "A pretty girl goes to a bar and gets drunk and tries to get home alone."

"Sounds like the beginning of one of those horror stories on the news," I smile as I say this and he smiles back. "It doesn't have to have a bad ending though."

"No," he questions.

"Yes, a man the girl meets at the bar can help her get home."

His smile widens. "Hey, who knows. Maybe he could spend the night, just to make sure she stays safe."

I laugh. I need this. I need this nameless man. He is looking at me and seeing me.

"I'm Jack by the way."

I smile and don't tell him my name.

* * *

As I pull Jack into my house, I slide my hands up his shirt and breathe, 'Nicola' in his ear. We grind our hips into each other and shed our clothes. My house feels empty without my parents who live so far away now. I claw at his back and squeeze my legs around his hips trying to forget the day, trying to let myself be seen. It is fast and hard and I think he might be trying to forget something too.

When I wake up, I find myself wrapped in a blanket he must have put on me with coffee resting a few feet away. Jack is gone and forgotten and I smile. My head pounds and aches but the pain lets me know I'm really here.

* * *

I try to combat my hangover as I work on a case with Dr. Preston Burke. His is polite and brilliant and says all the right things to the woman who he will be doing a heart transplant on. The woman's husband grasps her hand and they smile at each other with love. I feel oddly jealous and have to look away. Dr. Burke stares at me and I wish I had the relief of not being looked at. It was safer sometimes.

"They seem to really care for each other," he says as we exit the room.

I smile and nod. "They seem nice."

"Yes, they are."

Impulsively I say, "I wish bad things didn't happen to good people."

He nods his eyes looking at me gravely. "I'll be expecting you to scrub in on this. Who knows, you may learn something."

"Who knows," I echo.

* * *

The surgery is flawless. He performs with unparalleled precision, despite the whispers of what has happened to his hand. Perhaps that is the way of the renowned professional. When they hit a bump, they come back as perfect as before and perhaps even better. However, after the surgery is over and we are both washing our hands I see him rub the one that people whisper about. He catches me staring and immediately stops.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he and everyone else still feels the pain that has long vanished. They simply pretend it isn't there.

Kevin approaches me nervously at the end of our shift.

"Hi," he says in his soft voice. "Awesome surgery you got to watch with Burke."

"You were watching?"

"Behind the glass."

Kevin has shifted and the way he is staring straight at me is making me panic. "It was amazing. Preston Burke is amazing."

Kevin smiles. "Him and Christina Yang. They are what I want to be."

"The odd couple?"

Kevin shakes his head. "No, the brilliant successful surgeons that still manage to have a life."

I raise my eyebrows at him and say, "They practically live at the hospital."

He opens his mouth to shoot something back but Dr. Addison Montgomery approaches us. She is tall and lean and beautiful. Her brilliant red hair is clipped back and her black rimmed glasses are poised delicately on her nose. Her designer heels click on the floor as she gets closer. She is the ex-wife of Derek Shepherd. There is a convoluted past between her Shepherd, Sloan and Meredith. Meredith has mentioned it to me in passing but has not elaborated. When fellow interns gossip about it the words adultery, New York, prom and sex come up. I'd personally rather not know.

"Is either one of you interested in a surgery?"

I jump at the chance, suddenly not wanting to go back to my empty house. "I'm free."

Kevin merely rolls his eyes at me and walks off. Addison nods at me and I follow her as her heels click down the hallway. I catch her throwing looks at me out of the corner of her eye. The woman I look like helped her marriage undo. I feel some hope though knowing that neither one hated each other. A marriage doesn't fall apart due to one kink so she can't hate me. Not completely at least.

"Look at this preemie." She motions to the tiny baby in the insulator and shows me that chart. The baby has a host of problems. There was no mother to speak of and there was a host of drug problems.

"Will she even make it?"

Addison's eyes flick over to me and she says, "We have to do our best to try."

Suddenly words fly from my mouth. "But honestly, what's the point? You have a mess on your hands when she grows up." I clamp my mouth shut horrified at my outburst but Addison gives me a small smile.

"I see where you're coming from Dr. Lytle. I really do. But we all deserve an equal chance to fight."

* * *

"Work was hell today?"

I glance up from my book. There is Meredith walking over calmly to me in her blue scrubs with her blondish hair clipped back messily. She gives me that sad but pretty grin that lets me know that I'm in for a long talk.

I sigh and turn away from her. "I'm asleep. I'm supposed to rest when I'm asleep. But here you are invading my dreams and my sleep."

"That bad, huh?" she questions plopping down next to me.

I finally turn to her. There's no point in delaying the inevitable.

"Seattle Grace sucks ass."

"At times, yes," she concedes. "It will get better, though. Being dead, I have the benefit of knowing this."

"Really," I snap feeling irritated.

"It will get a lot worse sometimes. But it will get better." Her voice comes out kind and smooth and I would almost like to trust her on it. But I'm dreaming.

"Your husband hates me."

Meredith rolls her eyes. "Derek doesn't hate you."

"Oh really," I say sarcasm tinting my voice.

Meredith ignores my comment about Dr. Shepherd and says, "Addison likes you. She thinks you seem sad and tired. But she likes you. Even though you look like the dirty mistress who helped end her marriage." Her voice has almost turned self-pitying and I give her a look. She rolls her eyes again. "Sorry, I was having a self-absorbed moment. I don't really get to talk to a lot of people, though. I mostly did this with my friends. We could be friends you know."

"You're dead," I state.

"Yes."

"And I'm dreaming right now. Right?"

"That would be correct."

"So, you're dead and I'm dreaming all this but you want to be friends?"

"Wow. You are like me. You can make everything dark, twisty and morbid too."

"Totally the wrong thing to say to a girl whose whole identity has been forgotten due to you."

Meredith gives me a smile and says easily, "Don't try and be mad at me. We're too much alike to not get along. The men at the bars, the issues, the McDreamy." At the utterance of the last word she casts me a shrewd look.

"The McDreamy that you speak of isn't so dreamy any more. More like a McDark Tortured and Dreary."

"Hey now, he'll come around. Don't forget that I died on him."

As light as her tone is, there is something that lies beneath it. Something sad and heartbroken. It's times like these that make me believe that these dreams might be real.

"I'm totally making you question your sanity right now."

I stood up and glared at her. "Seriously! What have I done to deserve this? Seriously!"

She smiles at me and shakes her head. "Talk to Christina Burke tomorrow."

"Um. She's scary."

Meredith laughed. "Say what you think when you talk to her. Don't be personal but don't hold back."

"I hate you," I say feeling venomous towards this perfect yet imperfect person who is ruining my life.

"Sure you do," Meredith says with a wink.

And then she disappears.

When I wake, I know I have to talk to Christina Burke. Doing what she tells me causes issues but I've learned not listening makes everything ten times worse.

I am totally insane.

"What have I done to deserve this?"

And I swear I can hear her laugh.


End file.
